#225 What’s Our Relationship?
S-class hero Memory Hunter, summoned by Valencia Association President, didn't head to his office at Hero Association headquarters. Instead, he showed up at a Japanese restaurant.
Why'd he tell me to come alone, on the down-low?
"I'm here, bro."
"You made it? Hang on a sec. Food's coming soon. You haven't eaten, right?"
"Booze is my dinner."
"...You're the booze hound? How's booze dinner?"
Valencia eyed him with pity, knowing full well why Memory Hunter drowned himself in liquor. But he quickly shook it off, chuckling as if it were nothing and ribbing him lightly.
"You only nag when you see me. Anyway, what's the deal? Why skip the nice office and meet here? And weren't you saying Siren handed your ass to you? You good to be out and about?"
"Hmph! That seagull bitch? I'd take a hundred hits from her and still be fine!"
"You almost died, quit the bravado. Bro, your mouth runs on pure bullshit the second it opens. Anyway, why'd you call? I'm busy."
"You little shit? Hey! Your big bro wants to grab a bite, and you're gonna keep being a prick?"
"Every time you feed me like this, it's some annoying chore. That's why."
Inside Association HQ, Memory Hunter would've been all polite and deferential to Valencia. But here in this sushi joint, away from work, they bantered like old pals.
"How much have I even asked of you? Anyway, let's grease up that gut first, then talk."
"What'd you order? If we're greasing up, shouldn't we hit a steakhouse instead of sushi?"
"Tuna. Top-grade stuff."
"Tuna fat's way better than pork lard. What's that thing? KDA? They say tuna's packed with good shit like that."
Memory Hunter, who'd been grumbling, lit up with a grin and started devouring the side dishes. Valencia stared at him in disbelief.
"It's DHA, you illiterate hack. Where'd you even pull KDA from?"
"Sounds like it'd hit a hundred million YouTube views in a month, doesn't it?"
"What the hell are you on about?"
"Dunno. Just means tuna's awesome. Oh, you get booze?"
"You drive here?"
"You think I walked?"
"Didn't you get busted for DUI last month? You're unlicensed now, right?"
"..."
Memory Hunter, innocently chowing down, quietly set his chopsticks aside. He fixed Valencia with a serious look.
"Better hear important shit sober. So, what chore you got for me? Spoiler: my answer's no."
"...Do what you want."
"Heh heh heh. Knew I could count on you, bro! Waiter! Hit us with your priciest bottle."
"Right away, sir."
Moments later, the server slid open the door, bringing expertly sliced tuna and perfectly warmed sake.
"Enjoy your meal."
"Thanks."
Memory Hunter poured sake into his glass and Valencia's, then popped a fatty tuna belly slice. A sip of sake followed.
"Ahh... Now that's the stuff."
"Heh. Good, huh? Eat up."
"Was gonna anyway. Dig in, bro."
"Right."
They chatted idly about nothing important as they ate. The spread could've fed a whole tuna's worth, but their appetites cleared it fast.
"Whew, that hit the spot."
"All good?"
"Yeah, stuffed. So, what'd you wanna task me with, buying all this fancy shit? Spill it."
"..."
Valencia took a sip of sake and finally got to the point.
"You and Steel Armor—you two tight?"
"Pfft!"
"..."
Memory Hunter, mid-gargle, sprayed sake everywhere. Naturally, it all hit Valencia sitting across from him.
"Cough! Cough! Sorry... cough! My bad. Why drop some weird shit like that outta nowhere?"
"Can't even wipe this off..."
Valencia's fist trembled. Memory Hunter frantically grabbed tissues to dab his face, still hacking.
"Ahem! Anyway, what're you talking about? Me and who?"
"Nah? I heard you worked with Steel Armor before."
"Hell no! Why would I team up with that monstrous villain scum? You losing it, bro?"
Fuck, how'd he find out?
Memory Hunter played dumb, but his mind raced. How the hell does he know?
"Nah? Ronister said you saved some kids with him."
"Huh? Saved kids? What kids outta nowhere... Oh."
The "kids" mention clicked it for him—Valencia wasn't talking recent stuff, but that time in the past. Back when Rachel got kidnapped the second time. Good thing they didn't know he'd been the weirdo in the rabbit mask tagging along with Steel Armor.
"Goddamn Ronister and her big mouth. Why report every little thing? Yeah, okay, we moved together then. But we're not buddies or anything."
"Alright, guess that's that."
"Huh? That what?"
"I figured you two were close, so I'd ask you to hit him up. But if not, you wouldn't have his number anyway."
"Duh."
"No job for you then. Anyway, great meal. I'm out."
"Wait, what? Great meal?"
Memory Hunter gawked as Valencia stood.
"You said it yourself. Every time I feed you, it's some hassle. No job means you pay. Great meal—peace out. Oh, and you drank. Call a driver. Get caught driving again, and I'll really throw your ass in jail. You know it."
"W-Wait, bro!"
"What?"
"...Sigh."
Valencia looked ready to bolt, so Memory Hunter sighed. He was S-class, but unlike other heroes, flat broke. Every penny went to booze and gear—no savings ever. Sure, no cash, but he could run a tab. As S-class hero Memory Hunter, his face was the card.
But worse than money? Valencia was pissed. Send him off salty, and who knew what bullshit he'd pull back at HQ.
"Why him?"
"Got questions for him."
"What kinda questions?"
"Guy without his number prying like that? I'm outta here."
"...Sigh. What a bro. Hold up."
Memory Hunter waved the white flag, pulled out his phone, and dialed. Valencia sat back down.
Soon, the other end picked up.
—Yo~ Who's this? My soulmate, Rabbit Armor!
"Rabbit Armor?"
Valencia tilted his head.
"Shut it!"
—Whoa, touchy much?
"Quiet. Handing the phone over—pick up."
—Huh? To who?
"Take it."
Valencia took the phone. "Nice to meet you, Steel Armor. Valencia Association President here."
—Valencia? That ungrateful mutt?
"Mutt?"
Memory Hunter cocked his head.
"...Ahem! You can't call people mutts."
—Then what? Saved his life, not even a thanks? Mutt fits. Whoops, nailed the rhyme. Ooh shit.
"Dunno what you're on about, but let's talk."
—Master of playing dumb. Mutt don't fit? Player it is. Ooh shit—rhymed again. Anyway, shoot. I'll hear you out.
"In person."
—In person? Hmm... Pain in the ass.
"C'mon, meet up. Dinner on me."
—Yeah? Cool, works for me. Been wanting to chat anyway. Where?"
"You like tuna?"
*****
"See you then... Around 6:30, I'll head over."
—Got it. Later.
I hung up, tilting my head. Why's this old man wanna see me? Oh, duh?
To repay the life debt? Then I gotta go now. Wonder what he'll offer? Gumiho and Flame Witch, yeah. Won't give 'em up, but worth asking.
Anyway, over four hours till the meetup. Back to what I was doing.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, Sujeong-i."
"I can't... anymore..."
"Can't? Nah, you don't move. I'll do the moving."
"Not that... Ahh~!"
I slid back into Sujeong-i's ass, shaking my hips.
*****
Slide—
Door opened, and two familiar old mugs greeted me: Valencia and Memory Hunter.
"Whew~ Sorry I'm late."
"Thirty minutes."
"My bad, my bad. Got caught up in something, lost track of time."
One thing I pride myself on? My sex focus. Plus, had to chew-feed Sujeong-i her meal.
"Damn, all set up already. Nice instincts. But why so many booze bottles? Whoa, all empty?"
Floor was a bowling alley of empties.
"How long you been here?"
"Thirty minutes before calling you."
"Huh? Why stick around?"
"Beats me. Didn't know bro loved fish this much till today."
I asked Valencia, but Memory Hunter answered. Booze reeked off him every time he spoke. Wonder if he downed all this solo—face flushed, while Valencia looked fresh.
"Dude, slam that much and you'll drop? Live plastered against the wall or whatever—get a checkup."
"Shut up. Don't wanna cling to life shitting on walls. What an embarrassment."
"Just sayin'."
"..."
Me and Memory Hunter bantering easy had Valencia eyeing us like we were aliens. Fair—S-class hero and villain? Enemies at best, never pals.
"Anyway, why'd you wanna see me?"
"Apologize first."
"Outta nowhere?" What for?
"I looked into your background."
"...Huh? That's apology-worthy?"
Heroes digging on villains? Standard. Nothing to apologize for.
"You saved my life, and I snooped? Gotta apologize. Like you said, no thanks from me either."
"Pay it back with interest, we're square. That why you called?"
"You like cutting to the chase too."
"Damn right? Twenty-four hours ain't enough for me. Shit-ton to do."
"..."
His eyes shifted at "shit-ton to do." From warm to wary, probing.
What's his deal? My "to-do" list? Sex, obviously. Yuna, Elise, Jina, Emily, Cheetergirl, Ice Queen, Succubus and her guard girls, Dark Lady, Sujeong-i—plus turning Flame Witch mine. Swing this dick twenty-four-seven, still short. And the list keeps growing.
"Busy, huh? Doing what?"
"..."
Couldn't say. Embarrassing admitting I'm swamped banging strangers—especially to a dude, an old one. No way.
"Let's keep it cool."
"Cool?"
"Yeah. What's the question? No beating around the bush—straight up, clean. I'll answer anything I can, so ask."
"...For real?"
"Dead serious. I'm the most earnest guy around. Top-ranked world's most serious man, even."
"See, bro? This fucker's bullshit machine."
Memory Hunter chimed in.
"What you say, punk?"
"Lying?"
"Ain't lying. But say that to my face? Scratches my delicate heart."
"Look! Bro, this fucker's mouth auto-pilots bullshit!"
Bark bark! Woof woof—grrr rowf rowf!
"Fine, you want straight? Clean? What's your deal with the monster hunters?"
"...Who?"
My face went stone-cold at "monster hunters."